Orange with Loneliness
by St0ryTeller
Summary: A love story.


**First off, I'm not sure why the title. I'm sure it will come to me in time. It is a Big Bang Theory quotation. How nothing rhymes with orange, so when you're lonely, the colour you could be said to display is the lonely colour with nothing rhyming with it. Anyway, there's that. **

**New story. It feels good. Reviews, thoughts? Hit me ;") x**

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Ezra Fitz collapsed into the fall in a shrike-like hysterical wail; the strongest of spirits, or so he had thought for the duration of his life, had been broken in a second.

"I had a child 6 years ago. He is yours."

He felt deep sickness bubbling, brewing in his stomach, and had little care for where it was going to unleash. His ex, Maggie was the centre of his fury. His floor directly in front of where he sat the place his unfocused eyes fell as every thought possible ran through his head. His care levels for the world were nil in this moment. His life and his very existence were now something that made him feel disgust in varying forms.

It wasn't that he had a child that made him sick. Admittedly, the whole-hearted romantic dreamed in his dreams of a small family with the love of his life, sooner rather than later. He also dreamed that his child would have known him for his whole life. Ezra's head raced like the internal workings of a computer modem as he realised that for 6 years, his child had thought that daddy hadn't wanted him, hadn't cared that he existed.

And there it was, Ezra vomited on the floor with the loud gushing sound like he'd always seen in the movies before sloppily wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Never had he been truly one who cared for appearance and fashion, his once limited care factor had in this very moment gone arse up as he allowed vomit smear up his sleeve without care.

Various words appeared in his mind that he wanted to present to Maggie; profanities, anger driven remarks, questions. He would have helped her, his child. He would never abandon his own. Now, he couldn't care less for her, she didn't deserve his care after such a betrayal. But he cared for his son, Malcolm, and he desperately needed to reach out to him and say dad already loves him, that it wasn't his fault he hadn't been there and how he would strive to make sure he was loved in this world.

Ezra stumbled towards the beautiful town park which was situated across the street from his apartment block. It was the town spot to rest, morning or evening, with beautiful flowers planted, people walking and cycling by.

He reached a freshly cut patch of grass, still rich in aroma from a grass cutting the day or so before. He stood next to beautiful tulips. His legs buckled again and he found himself back-to-ground, staring up at the early morning sun. Space above him was infinite, and time almost came to a halt as the sun pricked his skin lightly while he stared at the vast blue above.

There was a part of him out in the world that didn't know his name, didn't know he was loved already more than possible by him. Realising he was probably late, he sat himself up. His shirt clung to his back, drenched from the grass. He must have looked disgusting. He shrugged, fury of everything consuming him, before heading off to work. Puke on his sleeve, wet grass and dirt on his back; he was going to be wonderful at work today. He walked down the small cobble-stoned lane and reached work. He pulled out his keys and phone. 6 minutes to opening. He quickly praised his well-timed, brief emotional breakdown as he proceeded to open the front door.

Ezra worked in the local bookstore. There weren't bookstores for many towns either side of Rosewood. He loved working in such an environment; talking about books, meeting people who cared about books. There was a spirit, a charm in the people who cared about books, and he had the best job in the world to meet those appreciative, romantic souls.

He opened the store as usual. Before long, it had been about 20 minutes from opening. Ezra had no idea though; he had been staring at the same corner of books from behind the counter since he first opened the store. He was trying to process the life of Malcolm, his errors of life and bad decisions in the mean-time. He was going to be distracted for at least several weeks if someone didn't shake him out of it.

A young woman stood in front of the counter. She watched him, tried to catch his eye; played with the bookmarks at the front counter trying to raise his awareness of her presence. A smiled tweeked her mouth and she shook it off. She thought he was gorgeous. He looked a mess, but he looked gentle, kind. She rolled her eyes, aware he wasn't going to tune into the world surrounding him any time soon.

"Hello," a young, angelic voice semi sung towards him. He snapped back to his reality and turned his attention straight to the girl. Her eyes could envelope anyone who saw them; wide, curious, innocent, _sexy._ His breathing hitched and she smiled as she noticed his reaction. He went dizzy and briefly looked further than her eyes, and he knew his life was going to be physical agony until he could hold her. She just stood there smiling. _Could she read my thoughts?_ He didn't know.

_Great_, sounding like a creep, he thought. Lost son, nothing in life in general, and now he was a pervert. Or was it helpless romantic? He was going to side with the latter so he could sleep with himself tonight.

"God, sorry," he rambled when he came fully to. She laughed, not in a cocky way, but in a way she knew that just seeing her had really made him struggle with standing and speaking.

"It's just that uh, I had been standing in front of you for about 5 minutes before I said something. Are you usually so distracted at work?" she quizzed curiously, leaning flirtatiously onto the counter as she awaited his response.

He smiled tightly and lowered his head embarrassed as he came out from behind the counter.

"No, uh, um- I'm usually very present. I love this job," he professed confidently. She loved his passion already.

"I just uh-" he said before hesitating. She watched him curiously. He decided to continue. "I got life-changing information this morning. I'm- I'm fine, but still, life changing. I'm a bit distracted," he said with a shrug before he and she walked towards their fiction books. Her eyes widened at his already sincere truth and gave a slight head nod in understanding as he watched her face.

"Was I able to help with something?" he asked.

_He is so honest, she thought; couldn't hurt if I was the same way with him. _"You're incredibly honest. It's refreshing in this world. Yet pretty bloody daring; brave," she noted.

"Yeah, sometimes such openness allows for people to take jabs, I've come to know. Use it against you. People who come into the store are generally wonderful and up for a chat. Others see your honesty as an opportunity to make themselves feel better. The people who are having a bad day, somehow it's your fault. But I'm not usually as open with customers as I was just then," he confessed with crimson cheeks.

Her heart raced, which she matched with a smile as she looked at him. Their bodies were close for people who had just met. Not in a creepy way, but in an energy-driven way, like magnets.

"Yes, your offer for help. Um- I'm looking for something unique, bold and fearless, a twist, a little romance. Nothing cheesy or flat out erotic in nature, but I want a bit of spice. Suggestions?"

And he had forgotten where he was again. Now he could only think of her using the word erotic so casually. She was rarely beautiful, confident, yep, for lack of a better word he was going to go for hot. She was _so hot_.

"Ezra," she asked, waving her hand in front of his face. She knew his name already. He panicked before remembering he had a name badge. "Ideas?" she teased. She knew he was ruined right now in her presence, but she wasn't cruel, she was flattered. And he was so cute. Cute, book-store loving; this man was the fantasy.

"Right, yeah, uh—" if you're looking for a twist, a heartache," he paused, "I recommend Atonement, Ian McEwan. Its raw, cruel, beautiful," he stopped talking as he noticed her moving closer to him. Her hands lay on top of his so she could get the book out of his hands. They stayed for a few moments longer than necessary. They both felt the electricity between them spring.

"Sounds perfect," she said slowly, staring into his eyes. He had long eyelashes, his cheeks were a few days unshaven. 24, 25 years of age, she guessed. She was 20. She liked those numbers together. She leaned towards his lips but he held her off but placing his fingertips on her chin. She looked at him embarrassed. He didn't want to have ruined this _that_ quickly.

"No I- my teeth, I didn't clean them before I came here. You don't deserve to be subjected to that," they both gave a light laugh.

"Again, with the honesty," she marvelled. "I had noticed your, uh- unique colouring of your shirt, particularly your back gave the impression it wasn't a regular start to your day," she said kindly and he gave a tight smile agreeing with what she had said.

"Dinner, tonight, -?" he paused when he realised that was moving very fast, and that he didn't yet know her name.

"Aria," she filled in the blank, perfectly timed.

"Aria." He rolled the name around his mouth. It tasted sweet to the taste.

"I'll meet you here at 8," she offered. He held his breath, consumed with nerves at her agreement. "And yes, I'll take the book. I hope that's not how you make all your sales; the offer of dinner to every customer that comes in," she flirted and he laughed and blushed a little.

"Only for those I really like," he answered honestly, yet not creepily. It was warm from him. And it was clear it wasn't an offer he presented often due to his facial expression; his eyes deep and true.

"8 tonight, I'll see you then," he said as he presented her with her book in a paper bag.

"Bye," she replied sweetly, blushing as she watched him. He was positively smitten after just the single meeting. He lowered his head, the nerves and giddiness overpowering him as he waved his final goodbye to her. His stomach was completely unsettled again, but in the other, best possible way. She already admired many of his attributes. You can't fake truth, tenderness and honesty as that man just displayed; not only in words, but his facial reactions backed up his words spoken. She hadn't known that in men she had known previous. She needed a man like that.

**Talk to me and let me know if you want more :)**


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